my fingers are cold and my toes
i'm holding onto summer
even though i love the fall

the leaves cracking
veins are dried and brittle
breaking apart in the wind

under the gray is the sun
but she is nervous and so
stays hidden

there are people here
the colour of earth
but it doesn't make them
closer to it
they litter just like everyone

outside the drinkers
don't feel the cold
even through cotton t-shirts
unravelling